Thank you, Captain Obvious

Have you had the baby yet?

a) No.

b) Yes and no. I had the human baby already, but its alien twin has a longer gestational period, apparently.

c) Yes. I had the baby last week, then developed a spontaneous case of morbid obesity strangely confined to my abdomen alone.

d) Yes, but I missed the last month of pregnancy so much, I had a special fatsuit made.

Daily Conversation

Husband: "What would you like for dinner tonight?"
Wife: "Hospital food."

How I Cheered Myself up About Not Already Having this Baby

I am more of a Francophile than an Anglophile (note the title of this blog).

However, I am excited about the royal wedding coming up. This is probably because I am the same age as the prince and the right age to have been reading a certain type of magazine *cough cough Tiger Beat cough cough* when it featured photos of him. . I may have played out a few royal wedding scenarios in my head involving Prince William (hey, no hard feelings, Wills. I got myself a good man). I might be even be planning to wake myself up to watch the Royal Wedding, if I weren't 9 months pregnant, when sleep is a very precious commodity.

If, however, the following conditions apply:

a) I am up at 5 am anyway, and

b) I am still pregnant and not in the hospital, and

c) I have not eaten all of the cake in a depressed frenzy because of condition (b),

Then I shall have a slice of this:

Chocolate Biscuit Cake

~1 stick butter, plus a little for greasing the pan

~8 oz Rich Tea Biscuits

Not the same as digestive biscuits, although those are delicious. I found a brand called Lyons at our international food store. Check out the British section. You might find McVittie’s Tea Biscuits or Lu Tea Biscuits.

~1 c. sugar

~16 oz +8 oz good dark chocolate—about 60%--cut into small pieces.

I used half nice quality semi-sweet chips, which I think are about 50%, and half fancy 70% bar chocolate. You could go a little lighter, but I wouldn’t recommend milk chocolate.

~2 beaten eggs

~¾ c. cream

~Grease a springform pan.

~Break biscuits into small pieces (Bite-sized, but don’t crush them. I’d just break them by hand).

~Melt butter and 16 oz chocolate over a double-boiler. Stir in the sugar. Give it time to melt.

My sugar didn’t really melt, it stayed kinda grainy, but it still tasted good. I might not have let it get hot enough in the double boiler. It didn't ruin the cake by any means.

~Add the beaten eggs and stir constantly, removing the top of the boiler from the heat.

Don’t let them scramble. I left it on the heat for a bit because I am careful about raw eggs right now, but if you prefer you can take it off the heat before you add the eggs.

~Stir in the biscuit pieces until well-coated. It will be very lumpy. That’s okay. Pour it into the greased pan and refrigerate it until it’s set, at least a couple of hours or overnight.

Once the cake has set:

~Rinse out a small saucepan and pour out the water without drying it.

This will keep the cream from scalding on the bottom of the pan.

~Bring the cream to a boil over medium heat, watching carefully and stirring. Pour over the remaining 8 oz. of chocolate, stirring constantly with a fork, and then using a whisk once the chocolate is melted. ~Allow to cool for about 10 minutes.

~Pour over the top of the cake (without de-molding it). This will fill in the cracks and gaps and give it a nice shiny top.

That’s why I did a ganache instead of melted chocolate. Looks prettier and fills in the gaps more fluffily. A few lumps might show through. If this bothers you, close your eyes when you eat it. But don’t count on your slice still being there--you might end up stabbing at the air with your fork.

~Allow to cool in fridge for another couple of hours before removing the outer ring. Serve in small wedges and refrigerate any leftovers.

*I adapted this heavily from another recipe. This other recipe did not make nearly enough chocolate filling to cover the biscuits, and it used melted chocolate instead of ganache over the top. So I didn’t make it up and am not gonna try to make money off it, but I’m not going to give credit to a recipe where the proportions were all wrong either.

Better than Puppycam, While Probably Not as Good as Dr. Horrible

I have a new brilliant money-making scheme, based on the idea that someone should be getting something out of the excessive awkwardness that plagues us in the last months of pregnancy.

It’s a series of brief tv episodes (or webisodes, whatever) about our new superhero: Super-Cute-but-Awkward-Hugely-Pregnant Woman (still working on a shorter hero name, or at least one that makes for a better acronym). Although she is all-powerful because she is, you know, creating a life inside her body, certain mundane tasks pose significant difficulty or simply elude her completely. There’s a running existential subplot about the cruelty and inevitability of the laws of physics.

Episodes include:

1) Pregnant woman tries to tie her sneakers.

2) Pregnant woman swims the backstroke (this is what I was doing when I came up with the idea. It’s actually pretty easy to do, but I bet it is also really funny to watch).

3) Pregnant woman tries to get out of the bathtub. (In a bathing suit, perv. It’s not that kind of show.)

4) Pregnant woman tries to roll over in bed. Or get out of bed.

5) Pregnant woman tries to clip her toenails.

6) Pregnant woman tries to reach forward to get something while seated.

7) Pregnant woman tries to sit in a booth at a restaurant.

Stay tuned for times and channel listings.

What to Say Postscript #1

4) I/my wife/my friend had the worst labor. I shall now proceed to tell you the inappropriate details.
Do not relate to me now, or to any pregnant lady (or really, anyone, ever), the horrible things that you or someone you know endured during labor, if unsolicited. If I want to know, I will ask you. Plenty of my close friends and family have willingly shared their labor stories, and I've found that helpful. BECAUSE I ASKED. No one should have to hear traumatic stories about how you thought your wife was going to die. We survive the anxious weeks before delivery by imagining that labor will be two hours long, involving soothing music and puppies and three big pushes that kinda pinch a little.

What to Say

Things to say to me right now:

1)You look adorable.

Very cute, lovely, beautiful, resplendent—all acceptable adjectives. Props to my local friends who have been telling me this a lot. Please continue, because I feel like an awkward cow.

2)What can I do for you right now?

Then be ready to follow through with whatever my response is, whether it is to pick me up a Slurpee, let me vent to you, or move some furniture.

3) Babies with longer gestational periods are usually very smart and well-behaved.

I am completely okay with you telling me this kind of lie.

Things not to say to me right now:

1)You still haven’t had that baby yet?

Completely unacceptable, unless you are legally blind. Even then, it’s borderline.

2) When is your due date?

Alright, you can ask my due date, but don’t suddenly act like that is when the baby is going to come. If you are 10 years old this is an acceptable understanding of what a due date is. If you are over 18 you should know better. If you don’t know better, let me break it down for you: the due date is an estimate. Though my baby is VERY advanced, she/he cannot read a calendar (plus, it’s dark in there). The sole purpose of the due date is to anchor the FIVE-WEEK-PERIOD around which it is considered normal and healthy to have a baby. So please don’t tell me I only have six days left. I might have a baby tomorrow, or in 20 days.

3) Sleep now; you won't be able to when the baby comes.

Trust that this thought has occurred to me, and I am sleeping as much as any awkward cow in a human bed.

I'm warning you

Oh dear. Here’s a link to an old post wherein I gush about the arrival of our first nephew. We now have three nephews and a niece (and soon will have another niece!), and I love them to pieces.

This is meant to serve as a warning that I am going to be insufferable once our own child is born. Is there a word for narcissism when it revolves around your own children?

Parenthood. I think that's the word.